(I work at a well-known electronics retailer that recently filed for bankruptcy. The customer base is primarily middle-aged men. I am a woman. Every day I have at least one conversation like this one:)

Me: *to male customer* “Hi, welcome to [Store]! How can I help you today?”

Customer: *condescendingly* “Oh, don’t worry about it, honey; I’ll wait until he’s free.” *gestures to my male boss, who hates it when people disrespect his employees*

Boss: “Oh, I’m going to be a while.”

(My boss sits at the desk and opens a magazine, very obviously ignoring the customer. The customer actually stands and stares at my boss for a few moments, waiting for him to finish.)

Boss: “Y’know, you can ask [My Name] if you need help. She does actually know what she’s doing.”

Customer: *huffing* “Fine.” *to me, very slowly and slightly louder than necessary* “I’m looking for a special kind of caaaaablllle—” *holds up his hands to indicate a cable* “—that will connect my laaaaptop to my TV.”

Me: “Sir, I am neither deaf nor mentally disabled. You’re looking for an HDMI cable. We have six-foot or nine-foot, and would you prefer blue or black?”

Customer: *startled* “Oh! Um, six-foot, black, please.”

Me: “Okay, that’ll be right over here with our LAN and Ethernet cables, next to the splitters. Here you are; is there anything else I can help you with today?”

Customer: *sheepish* “No, thank you. That’s all I needed.”

(I rang him up and he left. Only one of these kinds of customers ever actually apologized to me, but they all left fairly red-faced.)

(Our fast food restaurant, just like 99% of all other fast food restaurants, has three sizes of drinks. However, problems still occur.)

Me: “Hi, how are you? What would you like?”

Woman: “I’ll have [order number] and a [soda].”

Me: “All right, would that be small, a medium, or a large?”

Woman: *looks at me* “I want a [soda].”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, small, medium, or large?”

Woman: *leans over, and speaks very slowly* “I. Want. A. [Soda].”

Me: *slowly* “Yes, ma’am, I understand. Would you like that in a small size, medium size, or a large size?”

Woman: *impatient sigh* “Never mind. Get me a float.”

(Fortunately, the float only comes in one size, so I didn’t have to repeat the question a fourth time!)

(My neighbor and I have a long-seeded history of hate for one another. It started with her giving me snarky remarks about weaning my son from his bottle at ten months old and escalated from there. I am sitting on my other neighbor’s deck, just talking to [Neighbor #1]. The neighbor I do not like, [Neighbor #2], walks up and just butts into the conversation. My husband starts bringing my son over so I call out:)

Me: “Yay, here comes [Son]!”

(His name happens to be the same name as the kid from “The Omen.”)

Neighbor #2: “Oh, lord! Please tell me that’s not your child’s name! Don’t take this the wrong way, but anyone with the name ‘[Son]’ belongs in Hell with all the demons and Satan himself! I knew a ‘[Son]’ once and he was the absolute worst person I have ever met in my life! You’ve condemned your child to a life of Hell! He will rot in Hell with the rest of his kind.”

(I was absolutely the maddest I have ever been, but I somehow worked up the strength to walk away. She told me my two-year-old son belonged in Hell with Satan just because of his name, and I wasn’t supposed to take that the wrong way?)

(It is near the end of the year in middle school before we take the state tests. We have a great English teacher who is giving us fun essay prompts so that we can enjoy test prep more, since it’s pretty boring. These assignments are graded. The prompt today is for us to practice our persuasive essay writing, with an essay on whether or not humans could survive a zombie apocalypse. We are an “enriched” class, so, following the stereotype, most of us are really nerdy and have a lot of fun discussing the topic and writing about it. One student in my class who is known for complaining starts up. She complains every day, and has even yelled at our teacher on multiple occasions.)

Class: *talking quietly amongst ourselves and writing*

Student: *in a loud an obnoxious voice and standing up* “Mrs. [Teacher], the prompt is unrealistic. I don’t want to do it. A zombie apocalypse is never going to happen, so it doesn’t matter if we would survive or not.”

Class: *goes quiet*

Teacher: *about done with her complaints at this point* “[Student], your idea that complaining will help you pass the state test is unrealistic. Sit down and start writing, or if you really don’t want to do it, then take an F. I’m trying to make this fun for you guys.”

Student: “I can’t take an F. I need straight As to keep my honor roll streak, but this assignment is stupid and I’m not doing it.”

Teacher: “Well, if you don’t do it, you get an F, and if you keep complaining, you can leave. Neither is going to get you on the honor roll, though, [Student].”

Student: “That’s not fair. This is so stupid.”

Teacher: “Life isn’t fair. Now, you can either sit quietly and do your work, or take an F and leave.” *calmly sits back into her chair watching*

Student: “UGH!” *sits down and pouts*

Teacher: *smiles to herself at her victory*

(I love this teacher.)

(My aunt works at the pharmacy in a CVS, and often comes home with hilarious stories about customers or doctor offices. This one in particular I find incredibly stupid.)

Aunt: “Hello, this is [Aunt] from CVS. I need to order a refill for [Medication] for [Patient].”

Doctor’s Office: “Where are you calling from?”

Aunt: “CVS.”

Doctor’s Office: “Can you spell that?”

Aunt: “Um… C-V-S.”

Doctor’s Office: “Where? Spell it?”

Aunt: “C as in ‘cat,’ V as in ‘Victor,’ S like in ‘Sam.’”

Doctor’s Office: “Where?”

(According to her, this went on for five minutes before she finally got the medication ordered. The customer even warned her that the office was awful before she made the call.)